


Every Storm That Comes

by ZoeWiloh



Series: Don't Lose Your Fight, Kid [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Angst, Anxiety, Attack Aftermath, Depression, Disabilities, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Receiving bad news, Self-Hatred, Serious Injuries, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22123396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoeWiloh/pseuds/ZoeWiloh
Summary: Sometimes, Prompto got a really strong feeling that something horrible was going to happen. It seemed to settle into his stomach at random, often upon first waking up in the morning, before there was any reason at all for the overwhelming dread.But one day when he was sixteen, his whole world was turned upside down on a perfectly pleasant day when he hadn’t had a single bad feeling all day long, leaving everything he believed he knew in ruin.(AU where Noctis is attacked by the Marilith at age 16 instead of 8)
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia
Series: Don't Lose Your Fight, Kid [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592470
Comments: 14
Kudos: 88





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea would not get out of my head and I've been working on it for months. It all started as an excuse to get Prompto in on the suffering of the attack, but then I started thinking about how things would be different if these events happened later. In some ways, Noct would be a different person, which is interesting to think about. I haven't decided whether this is also a no prophecy AU, but that's the way it will most likely go. I'll let you guys know when it's relevant. (However there is still starscourge and daemons, obviously.)
> 
> Normally I reread my drafts to death before I post them, but I've gotten a bit tired of looking at this one, so I haven't actually read the whole thing beginning to end in almost 2 weeks, so if there's any errors or anything that doesn't make sense, please say something so I can fix or clarify. I just really want to get this out there. 
> 
> The plan is for this first part to be 2 or 3 chapters to establish, and then the rest will be various one shots in a series afterward. So if you're interested in more, remember to subscribe!

Sometimes, Prompto got a really strong feeling that something horrible was going to happen. It seemed to settle into his stomach at random, often upon first waking up in the morning, before there was any reason at all for the overwhelming dread. 

Days like that always made a turn for the worse eventually. It could be something as small as getting a bad grade on a pop quiz, or as big as discovering the bills were higher than expected and he would be unable to pay the bills until his parents came home in over a month. One way or another, that feeling always ended up manifesting into something unpleasant. 

Since that feeling turned out to be right so often, it felt like he was cursed. He tried to tell himself that he should look on the bright side. After all, it wasn’t as if the feeling came every day. Not even every week. So he should focus on the good days, right? Besides, if he had to suffer through those awful days, shouldn’t he just be enjoying the days he was free of that gnawing feeling?

Keeping his mind on the good days helped with the anxiety brought about by the bad ones. Those days still came, but they also always ended. It was a kind of misery he was well used to and could handle. On the good days, he put the negativity out of his mind, allowing him to relish the days he could and giving him the strength to survive the others. 

But one day when he was sixteen, his whole world was turned upside down on a perfectly pleasant day when he hadn’t had a single bad feeling all day long, leaving everything he believed he knew in ruin.

\-- 

It was late at night one Saturday. The day had been an absolute snoozefest. 

Noctis had left earlier that week on a trip to visit Altissia, leaving Prompto on his own. The last several days had been the definition of dull. Considering Prompto was already done his stack of homework before his shift earlier that night...he obviously must be bored out of his mind if he was being  _ responsible.  _

So there he was, killing time before he had to go to bed. It was remarkable how bored he got when Noctis wasn’t around. He’d spent so much of his life alone and he should be used to entertaining himself. But ever since befriending Noctis, being alone was the worst. It wasn’t a sanctuary anymore; it was lonely and sad and boring. 

Quiet was even worse, so he had the TV on while he browsed photography blogs on his phone. It wasn’t something he wanted to watch - his remote had been missing for a week so he was stuck with that channel. Thankfully, it was just the news and nothing annoying or dumb. Having the sound in the room was crucial, paying any attention to what was happening on the screen was not, so he only had the vaguest idea of what was being said.

Suddenly, the story the anchor had been covering - some fluff piece about a well-known stray dog finding a home or something - disappeared, replaced by the words  _ Breaking News  _ flashing across the screen. Prompto had just discovered a set of panoramic shots taken from off the shore at Galdin Quay. They were absolutely gorgeous, and he mostly didn’t take note of the news, only distantly noting that something had cut off unexpectedly.  _ But look at that view… _ He found himself wondering if he could ever capture something so perfect and beautiful. 

“Good evening, I’m afraid I come bearing bad news,” the anchor greeted. The grim greeting made Prompto glance up, and he saw a solemn look on her face. Not wanting to focus on something so negative, he scrunched up his face and turned back to his phone.

He half listened at first, too absorbed in the beauty of the photos. Then he heard words that would probably pull him out of a coma. 

“Breaking news has just reached our studio from outside the wall,” she continued. “The royal motorcade returning from Altissia was ambushed in Leide less than an hour ago. While we have no official word on the number of casualties at this time, some reports suggest that this was, in fact, a fatal attack for some. In addition to the Crownsguard and diplomats in the convoy, His Majesty King Regis and Crown Prince Noctis were also present. There is no word regarding their current welfare-” she cut off suddenly, placing a hand to her ear as she seemed to receive a message. 

Prompto was on the edge of his seat by the time she finished, his phone forgotten where he’d dropped it to the floor at the mention of an attack on the royal family. The news anchor cleared her throat and continued, “Apologies. I’m being told that the remaining members of the convoy have just arrived back in Insomnia and are en route to the Citadel for medical treatment for the injured. According to what I’ve just heard, casualties are reported to be heavy, but we have no exact numbers or further information regarding the identities of the deceased at this time. We will keep you all updated as new information becomes available. Have a safe evening, Crown Citizens.”

The news returned to the usual evening stories, but Prompto was still frozen in place by shock and fear. His mind was miles beyond scared and racing faster than ever before, though none of what he was thinking was useful. They say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes, but Prompto now realized it could also happen when facing the possibility of the death of a loved one. 

Images of Noctis flashed through his mind. Mundane moments like hours spent at the arcade after school and the classes they shared appeared, along with more special moments like the day he finally found the courage to approach his now best friend. Images of a bleak future also popped into existence: a crowded memorial service held outside the Citadel, mourning for lives lost too soon. Thinking about Noctis being among that number made him choke out a strangled noise.

_ No,  _ this wasn’t helping. As hard as it was to focus at the moment, he needed to do something useful before he lost his mind worrying and getting carried away by morbid thoughts. When he finally calmed down a bit, it occurred to him that he didn’t need to wait for the television newscast for more definite information. 

Grateful that his brain finally thought of something useful, he retrieved his phone from the floor and pulled up his speed dial list, calling Ignis first. He realized as it was ringing that he wasn’t sure if Ignis had been on that trip as well. Hopefully not. But either way, if anyone knew how Noctis was, it would be him. 

Ultimately, the phone rang on and on and Prompto received no answers. 

Next, he dialed Gladio’s number. He was pretty sure Gladio would have been at Noctis’ side on the trip. A stray thought came to Prompto, telling him that if Noctis was gone, Gladio likely was too. So when the phone once again rang until voicemail picked up, his blood ran cold. 

He knew he was jumping to conclusions, and perhaps overly dark ones at that. Maybe he was just being pessimistic. Or maybe he just knew, as well as he knew his own name, he tended to be kicked when he was down, the familiar feeling in his gut churning as if sadistically reminding him how uneventful his day had seemed until now. He suddenly had a sickening feeling of thankfulness for those bad days when he woke up able to feel that something bad was going to happen. At least then he had some kind of warning.

Contemplating what to do next, he looked down and frowned at his pajamas. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep any time soon. He checked the clock on the wall. It was just coming up on midnight. He had worked a long shift earlier, and he was pretty tired not that long ago. Now it felt like he might never sleep again.

Just as he was considering grabbing his keys and hopping on a bus to the Citadel, his phone rang out an inappropriately cheery tune. 

Desperate and struggling to breathe, he answered his phone, “Yeah?” The caller ID said it was Ignis calling, and Prompto realized the serious man may not appreciate the casual greeting at a time like this. He winced and asked, “Noct?” Again, he realized something more eloquent would probably have been appropriate, but his mind was focused so singularly on Noctis that he couldn’t find any other words. Ignis would know what he was trying to say. He was probably feeling almost exactly the same.

“His Highness is currently in surgery,” Ignis said, voice sounding even more tight and devoid of emotion than usual. 

Prompto waited for more information, but none came. Eventually, he asked, “What happened?”

There was another stretch of silence that felt far too long before Ignis told him, “They were attacked by a daemon after night fell. News reports of heavy casualties were not exaggerated. Thankfully, His Majesty escaped relatively unscathed compared to some.”

Before he could curb the accusatory tone in his voice, Prompto asked, “Why do I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me?” He winced again at how aggressive that had sounded, but he definitely felt like Ignis was skirting around a vital piece of information. The previously uncomfortable, empty silence suddenly felt icy. Not sensing a thaw incoming, he begged, “Please, Ignis. Please just tell me he’s okay.”

“I...I’m afraid I cannot do that just yet.” Prompto’s heart felt like it was dropped off a cliff. “I haven’t been permitted to see him but I’m told that it was an extraordinarily close call. It still is, really. The King was able to heal him enough to survive the rest of the trip home, but it took all he had. He didn’t have the strength to truly help him without letting the wall falter. Rumor has it that Noct’s heart stopped more than once.”

So it was as grave as he’d feared. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it being confirmed, though. Being right had never left him feeling so bitter. “So what’s wrong with him?”

Ignis sighed loudly, clearly frustrated. Prompto hoped it was at the situation and not at his prying, because that sure as hell wasn’t going to change without some answers. He answered tersely, “Allow me to repeat: I have not seen him.” 

It was Prompto’s turn to sigh, perhaps a little too dramatically. “Ignis, don’t try to tell me you haven’t forced some poor medical professional into telling you everything. I know there’s no way you’re just sitting around waiting without getting the details.”

“From what I’ve gathered, he was all but sliced in two,” Ignis replied with an uncharacteristic waver in his voice. “The surgeons are currently attempting to stabilize his spine, though we’ve been warned that may prove impossible.”

Prompto struggled to swallow the fear clawing its way up his throat. “Are you saying...?”

“Yes, I’m afraid I am. Even if Noctis survives there is a strong possibility he will be left a paraplegic, or worse. He very well may never walk again. We… we’ve also been warned he may not even wake again, for that matter.”

He couldn’t help but feel like he was drowning at that news. The idea of Noctis dying was something he’d already considered, but having it confirmed as more than a morbid stray thought was so much worse. Hearing that even if he woke he still may never be the same -  _ if he woke,  _ spoken as if not a guarantee - left Prompto’s world shattered.

“Can I come? To the Citadel, I mean,” Prompto added needlessly, mumbling the request. While there were few things, if any, he could think of that were worse than the news he received tonight - he didn’t want to tempt the universe by actually listing his worst nightmares, even in the safety of his own head - he couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be to wait for an update on his best friend’s health. “Please,” he whispered when no immediate answer came. 

“As I’m sure you’ll understand, security is rather tight at the moment-”

“Please,” he interrupted. “I just…there’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep now. Can’t I just wait with you? You’ll barely notice I’m even there, promise.” 

Even without seeing his face, Prompto could tell Ignis was putting forth massive effort not to sigh in exasperation. “If you would allow me to finish, I was going to say there is no way you’ll be permitted inside the Citadel without a direct escort. Give me time to arrange for someone to pick you up and bring you here. Whoever I find will be understandably eager to return as quickly as possible, so be ready to go as soon as you can and I’ll do my best not to leave you waiting too long.”

“No problem, I can do that.”

“I imagine you won’t want to return home anytime soon either, so I suggest you pack a small bag. We shall make arrangements for you, if you like.”

That made him pause. Even Noctis didn’t live at the Citadel anymore; Prompto would feel really weird staying there by himself. But it wasn’t as if his parents would be home soon, so he was going to be alone either way. Maybe being alone in a building full of life would be an improvement. Though, it would be a building full of life but also bursting with reminders of Noctis… 

Momentarily torn, he eventually agreed and thanked Ignis profusely, then raced to pack a bag so he could be by his friend’s side as soon as possible.

\--

Ignis was sitting in the break room for the medical staff who worked at the Citadel. They had apparently taken one look at him and seen he needed the privacy, which would have mortified him on a regular day. It wasn’t befitting the prince’s advisor to fall apart, especially not publicly.

But this was no regular scenario. This may very well be the worst day of his life and he couldn’t hold himself together, despite his desire to do so while surrounded by others. Even if the expectation to be calm and collected at all times was often self-imposed, he couldn’t bear to break down with anyone else around. 

He was struggling to hold the tears in at the thought of losing his prince. No, not merely his prince. His best friend. His brother. His purpose. His whole world, really. He had spent so much of his life in service to the royal family that he never expected to do anything else with his life. While the job of being there for Noctis had evolved over the years, his level of dedication never wavered. He had promised the king all those years ago that he would be whatever his son needed him to be, but now there was nothing he could do to be of use. Being left sitting idly while Noctis’ life was in the balance made him feel truly helpless for the first time in his life.

Feeling the dampness clinging to his eyelashes and remembering from childhood the horrid way it tended to stain glasses, he plucked them off his face and hid his eyes behind a hand instead. Sighing deeply, he continued trying to wrestle his emotions, to bring himself back from the brink he was rapidly approaching. 

Just as he felt himself tipping over that edge, he heard the door open. Harshly shaking his mind back into submission, he replaced his glasses to see who had entered the room. 

It was Gladio, wearing a stormy look and his heavily bandaged arm in a sling. “Hey, Iggy,” he greeted uncharacteristically softly. Ignis couldn’t bring himself to speak yet, but nodded in acknowledgement. “You okay?” 

Letting out a humorless laugh, Ignis replied, “Should I not be the one asking you that question?”

“You know damn well I’m not okay. I failed him, Igs.”

Ignis hummed. “I was referring to your arm.”

Gladio humphed. After a long silence, he replied, “‘S’nothing I can’t handle.”

“Is that the actual medical diagnosis the doctor shared with you?” Ignis asked. That his sarcasm surfaced now of all times surprised them both.

“Drop it, Iggy,” he growled in response. Huffing again and rolling his eyes when Ignis’ penetrating stare never let up, Gladio replied, “Buncha’ severed tendons and muscle tissue damage. There’s a big nick in the bone too, so I gotta keep from moving too much if I don’t want it to turn into a full break. Took an assload of stitches to close. Probably gonna scar.” 

“Is it possible to use potions on it?” Ignis prodded further. 

“Already had some. Can’t overdo it and they’re being real careful with them since so many people need ‘em right now and the King isn’t in a position to make more when he needs to conserve his strength for the wall and helping Noct. Anything that can wait is gonna have to. Good, ol’-fashioned healing may not be anyone’s idea of fun, but it’s tried and true and won’t kill ya.”

“That’s a good way of looking at it.”

Silence took over, not exactly comfortable but not uncomfortable either, just simple silence. 

When the silence was broken by a knock at the door, both men were startled and turned abruptly towards the source of the noise. Seeing a Crownsguard at the door left both of them a bit confused, but it was soon cleared up when he nodded at them and stood aside to let Prompto Argentum into the room. 

Prompto slunk into the room without a word, dropping into a chair after letting his backpack fall from his shoulder. After a couple minutes, he finally spoke, but with his back hunched and hands covering his face, whatever he had to say was muffled. 

“Come again?” Ignis asked, aiming for a gentle tone and failing for the most part, sounding far more critical than he had intended. 

When he finally tore his hands away from his face, the others in the room could clearly see the tears streaming down his face. “I was asking if there’s any news.”

“Nothing new since we last spoke, I’m afraid,” Ignis murmured. “Noct has been in surgery for less than two hours, and I imagine it will take longer than that for the doctors to stabilize his condition and longer still for his best possible chance at future mobility.”

Hearing yet again that it was no guarantee for Noctis to ever walk again - and still possible for him to not even  _ survive  _ \- further dampened the already gloomy atmosphere in the room.

Prompto looked around the room they were seated in and only then seemed to notice Gladio’s injured arm. “Oh, hey big guy,” he began softly, “is your arm gonna be okay?” 

Gladio remained silent, likely stewing over how small his injury is compared to some that were suffered that night. But it was Prompto’s wince of sympathy that finally tipped him over the edge. “It’s fine! Drop it!” 

“Oh, uh, sorry,” Prompto said while seemingly trying to shrink into himself enough to vanish. 

Ignis gave Gladio what was supposed to be a withering look in response, but it was tinged with too much sadness and defeat to have any proper effect. At first, Gladio stared back straight into Ignis’ eyes, challenging him to say anything further, but eventually he broke the eye contact and looked away, likely not seeing the point in aggressively standing his ground in a situation like this.

“Prompto,” Ignis began. There,  _ that _ was the gentle tone he had attempted earlier. He continued softly, “It is probable that we won’t hear any news until dawn at the earliest. If you would rather spend the time asleep rather than waiting for news that likely won’t come for some time, I can show you to a room I had made up for you.” When Prompto hesitated, he added, “No one would think less of you for doing so.”

Prompto seemed torn and Ignis could certainly relate. He was certain he wouldn’t be able to find sleep tonight himself, but he wouldn’t begrudge Prompto for sleeping through what was sure to be an agonizing wait. Eventually, Prompto nodded, despite still looking unsure. Ignis stood and placed a hand on his shoulder, gently inviting him to follow beside him.

Most of the walk to the wing where Prompto was to stay was spent in silence, again neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. Both were clearly lost in thought; Ignis was thinking of what he was going to do for the long hours ahead since sleep was almost certain to elude him. 

After some time, Prompto broke the silence. “Do you think he’s gonna be okay?”

Ignis opened his mouth to deflect, but at the last moment decided to be honest. There was little point in hiding from others who were feeling the same inner turmoil he was. “I wish I knew,” he settled on after a long moment. 

Blind optimism was never his strong suit; he had always been drawn to a more realistic view of the world, as was befitting his position. For the first time ever, he found himself wishing he had Prompto’s bright outlook on the world, but it seemed even Prompto’s unique brand of sunshine was being crushed by the reality of their current situation. 

Prompto looked like he wanted to say something else, but he remained silent the rest of the way to their destination. Finally looking away from the floor for the first time since they left the hospital wing, Ignis could see the tears in his eyes, and he didn’t know how to make it better. 

Being unable to care for Noctis in the moment, he found himself wanting to help Noctis’ closest friend, but he wasn’t sure how. His caregiver instincts were urging him to say something reassuring, but what could he honestly say? None of them were sure it would be alright, and he couldn’t bring himself to lie to the tearful boy in front of him. If the worst should happen, they were already going to be crushed, he refused to provide false hope in circumstances such as these. 

Ignis finally settled on, “Noct could not be in better hands.” It had seemed right in the moment, but both of them could see it as the evasion it was, leaving the words falling flat. 

\-- 

Restless and not yet sleepy, Prompto paced around the room for awhile. He couldn’t help but note that his usual curiosity was conspicuously absent; in any other situation he’d be fascinated by the suite in the Citadel. With his own origins being anything but grandiose, the glossy luxury in the lines of the architecture and furniture should intrigue the artist in him, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

Noctis had already moved to his own apartment by the time he and Prompto became friends, so this was his first chance to see the building up close. He wished he was there under different circumstances so he could actually enjoy his surroundings, but everything he saw just made him think of Noctis. Shaking his head violently to dislodge his distressing train of thought, he changed into his pajamas and rushed through his evening routine. 

Half an hour later, Prompto found himself lying in what was unquestionably the most comfortable bed he’d ever had the chance to experience. It was disappointing he couldn’t truly enjoy it, but of all the things that had him anxious that night, that disappointment didn’t even make the top ten. 

Some unknowable time later, Prompto finally managed to find sleep, but every one of his dreams was about Noctis, leaving him with feeling uneasy and unrested come morning. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter's ready for y'all! Yay! 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and comments so far, and I hope you enjoy the next part!

After Ignis met Prompto at his room and led him back to the medical wing, they were shown to the same room they had occupied the night before. Gladio was still nowhere to be seen, but Ignis figured he had to be close; there was no way anyone would be able to keep him away, even if they wanted to. 

Ignis had never been one to fidget, but he had nervous energy that he had no clue what to do with. The back of his mind pointed out to him that when one was less capable of sitting still than Prompto, something was very wrong. 

The wait was agonizing, and the lack of anything to occupy himself with was slowly driving him mad. He was desperate for the tiniest bit of information, though he had no doubt Noctis must still be alive - because surely the medical staff valued their lives enough to have informed him should the worst have happened in the night while he was forcing himself to at least try to sleep. Which he wasn’t sure if he did; if he had slept at all his energy level had nothing to show for it. 

After a truly unknowable amount of time - the room was devoid of clocks and he didn’t have the heart to bring his phone to get any work done, another thing that was driving Ignis up the wall - a knock came at the door, which then opened to reveal a doctor peeking into the room. Ignis suddenly realized he was slouching, so he quickly straightened his posture and looked at the doctor expectantly. 

“Mr. Scientia?” she clarified unnecessarily. When he nodded, she fully entered the room, but paused when she spied Prompto. “I just spoke to the king and he requested I come to you next…”

Following the doctor’s eyeline, Ignis responded, “No worries doctor, Mr. Argentum is privy to any information you have for myself or Gladiolus.” 

She nodded in return and turned back to address Ignis fully. “His Highness is out of surgery for now, but we aren’t sure at this point if additional procedures will be necessary. I won’t lie to you, he isn’t in good shape. But the fact that he’s survived this long is remarkable and could bode well for his chances.”

“I suppose that’s the best news we could have hoped to receive,” Ignis replied softly, staring down at the floor. Considering the various pieces of the event that he had gathered, he could barely believe what the doctor was telling him. But not knowing all he could learn would never sit well with him. He held back a sigh - more out of lack of energy than any sense of decorum - and added, “Is there anything more specific you can tell us?”

The doctor grimaced slightly and glanced at Prompto before responding, “I’d prefer to spare you the gory details. Let’s just say that we’re looking a miracle in the face and leave it at that, shall we? He’s in one piece, that’s what matters. I’m sure you’re eager to see him; he’s settled in a room down the hall now. It’s tough to say when he’ll wake, between the blood loss and the intense strain on his system, but even when he does, he’ll be heavily medicated and not especially aware of his surroundings. I know that isn’t the most reassuring idea, but believe me when I say it’s for the best.”

Ignis knew she was right on both counts. He absolutely didn’t want to hear that he wouldn’t be able to speak with Noctis for some time. There was nothing else he could think of that would completely put his racing mind and heart at ease. But he had no problem believing that Noctis would be in agony if he was to wake so soon. 

When the doctor gestured for the two of them to follow her, both sprung up without hesitation and walked as fast as they could after the doctor.

\--

Prompto listened to the conversation between Ignis and the doctor from the edge of his seat and followed without second thought when invited to see Noctis. 

It wasn’t an especially long hallway they were heading down, but it seemed to stretch on forever, giving Prompto plenty of time to think. Relief and worry mixed potently, leaving a feeling that was disturbed, yet somehow hopeful. The anxiety he always felt was at war with the sunny disposition he showed the world, and it was confusing his mind.

Prompto was no master at analyzing conversation like Ignis was, but he could plainly see how the doctor was trying to give them hope - but not too much. Despite appreciating the honesty, part of him wished for something better. False hope often seemed kind in the moment but cruel in the long run, yet he couldn’t help but wish the doctor’s news had been overwhelmingly positive, even if it wasn’t fully true. The careful way she was hedging her bets regarding Noctis’ health was making his stomach churn even more than before.

Finally, after what seemed like far too long, the doctor stopped at a door and gestured for them to enter. Prompto took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind before entering - at least as much as was possible in the situation. Stepping into the room, he was glad for that deep breath, because it felt like the air was knocked out of his lungs with a vicious punch to the chest when he saw Noctis. 

He wasn’t sure where to look first. Some of the details weren’t bad by themselves, but all of them together painted a gruesome picture. The typical hospital gown and unusually large hospital bed made his horribly pale body look frail and far too small. Prompto supposed the oxygen mask over his nose and mouth was only to be expected, but it made the image appear even more grim. He could see a few shadows of bruises just on Noctis’ face, and he had a sinking feeling that they were the least of his problems. 

Dark circles under his eyes and a sheen of sweat dominated Noctis’ face. One of his arms was heavily bandaged and the other had a brace running from his wrist nearly to his shoulder. He was connected to multiple machines, and somehow not knowing what they were for made it so much worse to see, perhaps because the unknown made Prompto’s imagination run wild. His imagination was almost always worse than reality and he found himself desperately hoping his mind was running away from him in this case and not picking this as the one time to be totally realistic.

Noctis’ hair was messy, smooshed down in awkward patches and sticking up wildly in others, and he found himself running his hand gently over his friend’s head without even realizing he’d moved close enough to the bed to do so. His hair felt strange beneath his hand, yet reassuring. He kept running his hand over his hair absently, even after it began to feel uncomfortable against his palm.

The doctor cleared her throat from behind them, and he reluctantly turned his attention back to her. “You’re welcome to stay with him for now, but remember that he won’t be awake for awhile. We aren’t sure when he’ll be conscious, so I wouldn’t recommend waiting around to talk to him, as tempting as that may seem.”

“Thank you, Doctor…?” Ignis said politely, trailing off when he realized he never learned her name.

“Doctor Cole. Sarala Cole. I’ll be around, but I’ll give you some privacy for now,” she said with a final nod, exiting the room before either of them had the chance to thank her. 

Ignis finally approached the bed and sat in the chair closest to it, reaching out to hold Noctis’ hand. “Somehow it’s simultaneously better and worse than I expected,” Ignis admitted quietly. “I do not know how such a thing is possible, but Noct does have a way of surprising me, even after all these years together.”

Prompto agreed completely but just nodded halfheartedly in response. He wasn’t sure what he had believed he was going to find in this room, but seeing Noctis before him caused a whole mess of contradicting feelings now that the relief of seeing him at all was beginning to pass. It hurt to see Noctis so hurt of course, but there was still relief there too, somehow. Walking into the room, Prompto knew Noctis would be breathing, yet seeing it for himself brought a sense of comfort he knew he needed but hadn’t expected to find looking at such an unpleasant sight. The longer he watched Noctis’ chest rise and fall with each breath, he felt both more and less at peace. 

When his shaking legs finally felt ready to give out on him, Prompto moved away from Noctis’ bedside and sat in the chair next to Ignis’ on the other side of the bed. He was just a tad too far away to reach out and touch Noctis, so he drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them and just watched his best friend intently. 

No further attempts at conversation were made, each of them too focused on Noctis to try. They both knew they wouldn’t see him wake yet, as much as that hurt to keep in mind, but the idea of leaving his side was unthinkable. They also both knew that the doctor was right and Noctis wouldn’t be waking anytime soon, yet they couldn’t help but practically hold their breath, hoping to witness him open his eyes any second. It was like seeing spoilers and not liking what you read, so you desperately hope it was somehow all wrong, like something else entirely will happen and there’s still a happy ending waiting at the conclusion. 

“Thought I might find you two here,” a voice said from the door. Turning at the abrupt interruption, Prompto saw Gladio walking into the room. 

Prompto simply nodded but Ignis spoke up and dryly said, “I’m rather surprised you’re late to the party.”

“Had an appointment.”

“Doing what?” Prompto asked, curiosity getting the best of him despite knowing that asking Gladio prying questions rarely yielded the best results. 

Gladio hesitated, as if caught off-guard. “Eviscerating some practice dummies, what’s it to you?” he answered gruffly - and a little defensively, Prompto noticed - as he moved to lean against the wall on the opposite side of where Noctis laid. 

Ignis delicately raised an eyebrow and said, “I’m not sure that’s what the doctor ordered for your injury.” When Gladio’s face turned stormy, Ignis cut in before he could go off, “That monstrous sword of yours cannot be good for the recovery of your arm; I’m shocked you really need this spelled out for you, for astrals’ sakes.”

“I know how to use other godsdamned weapons, Ignis, just drop it.” 

Prompto shrank in his seat, trying to disappear from the suddenly heated discussion that continued around him. He found himself staring at Noctis to tune out the negativity the others were carrying on. 

Watching Noctis breathe was somewhat reassuring until out of nowhere, Prompto remembered what Ignis said about the possibility that Noctis might never walk again. He felt terrible for forgetting such a thing, even if it was just for a few hours. He couldn’t help but get lost in a spiral of thoughts of how much Noctis’ life would change if that happened, and his own too - though to a much lesser extent, of course, and he felt ashamed for even considering himself in a situation like this.

Noctis had only been his best friend for about two years, but they were practically attached at the hip most of the time. Noctis had never been the earliest of risers, but some days after Prompto spent the night, he would manage to get him out of bed and out on his morning run with him. Those days may be behind them now.

While there were other things he tended to enjoy more, Prompto could tell that his friend enjoyed being active, and that he gained a lot of confidence from his training with Gladio. Noctis usually avoided bragging, but he’d actually heard Gladio brag on Noctis’ behalf now and then. The kid is practically a prodigy at this, I swear, it’s incredible, he’d heard on more than one occasion. Prompto had observed the training sessions many times, and while he didn’t have a lot of other experience to compare it to, he was thoroughly amazed by what he saw. 

Prompto found himself imagining walking down the hallway at school alongside Noctis in a wheelchair and his heart felt like it was seizing up, bringing tears to his eyes. When he attempted to dispel the image, his brain then unhelpfully conjured the thought that he could be left walking down those same halls all alone instead. The thought of losing Noctis entirely and being all alone again like before was by far the worst thing he could possibly imagine, yet the possibility loomed so close. This time he just couldn’t bring himself to fight the tears and he let them trail down his face, grateful that Ignis and Gladio pretended not to notice. 

\--

It had been exactly ten days since Prompto nearly lost his best friend. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t that long a stretch of time, but it felt like forever to everyone waiting on news; somehow it felt more like weeks and weeks had passed. 

Only a day or two in, it felt like this was how things had always been; it was as if the times when Noctis was healthy and happy were shrinking in the rearview mirror to the point they were seeming more and more like they never happened at all. It also began to feel as if this was how things would always continue to be. With each hour Noctis didn’t wake, things seemed more bleak. Each day felt like further confirmation of their deepest fears. 

Even the most knowledgeable doctors in Lucis were at a loss. While some had proposed possible reasons Noctis continued to remain comatose, none could say for sure. It seemed like each day a new fleet of doctors were brought in from across Eos, yet all they were able to provide was speculation and transparent reassurances to Noctis’ loved ones. 

Life had quickly fallen into a new routine, but Prompto couldn’t honestly say he was a fan. He spent his weekends at the Citadel, and most days after school - though he did now return home in the evenings - sitting in Noctis’ hospital room, spending most of his time beside his still-unconscious friend, praying for him to finally wake up. It was an extremely depressing way to spend his time, but he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. 

Ignis would help with Prompto’s homework, desperate to help someone, even if it couldn’t be his actual charge. Only a couple days into their seemingly endless wait, when it was just the two of them alone, Ignis had zeroed in on the secret that was Prompto’s home life. While he hadn’t wanted anyone to know - not even Noctis knew the full extent of his parents’ neglectful ways - it was kind of nice to have someone looking out for him for once. It was almost like he’d lost his best friend but gained a pseudo-parent. He wouldn’t consider the exchange worth the pain, but it did help soften the blow a tiny bit. 

So here he was, a week and a half after the worst night of his life, walking into Noctis’ hospital room. Ignis was nowhere to be found, so he settled into a chair and pulled out his homework. 

An hour or so passed quietly before he heard a soft noise come from nearby. Completely absorbed in the math problem he was trying to solve, he didn’t latch onto it for what it was. A few minutes later, he heard something again and remembered suddenly that it was only him and Noctis in the room. Terrified it was only wishful thinking, he almost couldn’t bring himself to raise his eyes from his homework in his lap. 

Then a louder, breathy moan came from in front of him, and he was nearly positive it was real. Looking up, he almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

“Wh…” Noctis breathed out. “Where am…? Wha…?”

When his heart finally descended from his throat, Prompto cautiously asked, “Noct? Can you hear me?”

Without looking at Prompto - his confused gaze stayed firmly fixed on the ceiling - he slowly mumbled again, “Where…am I? I don’t…” 

It finally clicked in Prompto’s mind that he needed to find someone who actually knew what they were doing, because he definitely was out of his depth. Standing to leave, he didn’t think to tell Noctis what he was doing because he honestly wasn’t sure he was even listening or understanding anything coming out of his mouth. 

But it turns out he wasn’t giving his friend enough credit, as he finally looked in Prompto’s direction and cried out, “Wait! Don’t leave me!” 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he cooed in response. “I’ll be right back, I promise, Noct.” 

The panicked, distraught, almost childlike look on his face was heartbreaking, but Prompto was sure a doctor or nurse would know what to do. 

Running out into the hallway, he was so relieved to see Dr. Cole passing by. “He’s awake! Noct’s awake!” He tried to ignore the surprised look on her face and raced back to keep his promise to Noctis. 

“Hey buddy,” he said when he reached his friend’s side. “Told ya I’d be right back.”

Instead of the relief he was expecting to see on his face, he was met with confusion. “Mmm…b-back? What…I don’ underst…” he trailed off softly, staring at the ceiling again, eyelids fluttering.

“I’m Doctor Cole. You’re in the medical wing of the Citadel,” Noctis’ doctor introduced herself gently. “It’s very good to see you awake, you know.”

Noctis just hummed in response, still not looking at either of them. 

“Noctis, I know this is overwhelming,” Doctor Cole said soothingly, “but I need you to focus on me for a little bit.”

Knowing he’d only be in the way, Prompto ran out of the room to find Ignis or Gladio. He knew the King should know Noctis was awake too, but Prompto knew he didn’t have the guts to figure out how to contact him by himself. So he really needed to find Ignis. 

As he made his way down the hallway, he realized that while the Citadel definitely felt more familiar after the last couple weeks, there was no way he’d be able to actually navigate it - and he didn’t especially feel the need to get lost and accidentally stumble onto anything that might get him thrown in a dungeon or something - so he tucked himself into a corner and pulled out his phone. 

The phone rang a couple times before he heard on the other end, “Ignis Scientia speaking.”

Momentarily forgetting the urgent update he had to provide, he almost laughed and joked to the advisor, “Iggy, there’s this thing called ‘Caller ID’. Do you really think you need to answer the phone that way for me?” 

Clearly making an effort to hold in a sigh, Ignis responded, “Simple force of habit, Prompto. Was there something you needed? I hadn’t intended to join you and Noct for another hour. This may come as a shock, but I am still quite busy even without Noct creating extra work for me.” 

Prompto could tell making the lighthearted comment came at great cost to Ignis. Everyone knew that Ignis would do anything for the prince. He may grumble occasionally and his sarcasm was cutting when he let it slip out, but he would give everything imaginable and more to see Noctis healthy and happy again. 

He suddenly realized that despite Noctis being awake and talking, he was neither healthy nor happy at the moment. Still, he couldn’t imagine Ignis wanting to be anywhere else at a time like this. He felt vaguely guilty he hadn’t blurted out the news the second Ignis picked up. “He’s awake,” he said simply. Still a bit in shock at the situation himself, he breathlessly repeated, “He’s awake, Iggy.”

Ignis made a quiet choking noise before asking sharply, “Was lecturing me on how I answer the phone truly necessary at a time like this?” Prompto could hear papers rustling frantically in the background. “Have you called Gladio?” 

“N-no, I called you first.”

“Alright, I’ll call him and the King on my way. I’ll see you both shortly.” 

After hanging up, Prompto wondered if he should’ve shared a little more information. Like the fact that Noctis was barely aware of anything and seemed seriously confused. He found himself saying a prayer to any astrals listening that Ignis take the development well when he arrived, or that the Noctis they know and love returned to them soon. Preferably both, but this world of theirs hadn’t seemed perfect in quite some time, so he assured the deities he would settle for the former.

Racing back to the room, Prompto arrived just as the doctor was stepping back into the hallway with a troubled look on her face. His blood ran cold at the somber expression. 

“What? What is it?” he asked as he skidded to a stop in front of the doctor. 

Prompto was suddenly glad that the doctor was now much more comfortable with him and that he didn’t have to wait for someone else to arrive, because he wasn’t sure he could handle not knowing what that look on her face meant for another second. This was the kind of thing that would make his imagination run wild in all the worst ways.

With a deep breath, she began, “Unfortunately, it seems Noctis has no feeling in his legs. This wasn’t entirely unexpected, though of course we’d hoped the surgery would be more of a success.” When Prompto’s face fell, she reached out a hand to rest on his shoulder and continued, “We knew all along this was a possibility, but don’t give up hope just yet. With an injury of this magnitude, even survival wasn’t certain. Yet, here he is, awake and talking, getting more coherent by the minute. He’s obviously very strong to make it this far; who knows what is possible from here. I see Mr. Scientia coming our way, so why don’t you go sit with Noctis while I fill him in?”

Bobbing his head sadly at the doctor’s suggestion, he entered the room. When he saw Noctis’ face, his heart broke all over again. He looked much more aware of what was happening now, and maybe that wasn’t a good thing, because he looked so dejected. Yet, when he looked up and made eye contact with Prompto, his eyes were dry. They weren’t giving him the same dull, confused look from a few minutes ago; he very clearly understood what the doctor had said. 

“Hey, buddy,” Prompto said, awkwardness saturating his voice. 

He didn’t know how best to move forward. No matter what, he would be by Noctis’ side, that wasn’t the question at all. But was he supposed to feign his usual optimism and pep? Or was that unkind in the face of the news he’d just received? Was it better to be his usual upbeat self? After all, the doctor had said that things could change, so should he remind Noctis of that hope? Or should he respect that Noctis was surely not feeling all that hopeful at the moment, and give him time to register everything? Prompto found himself going back and forth a dozen times in only a matter of seconds, completely unsure what the best course was.

After a long moment, he lowered himself into the chair closest to Noctis and reached to take his friend’s hand, but Noctis pulled it away at the last second. Prompto’s shoulders sagged at the rejection but he tried to take it in stride as much as he could. 

When the silence stretched on, Prompto asked uncertainly, “How are you feeling?” 

Noctis didn’t answer or look up to meet his gaze. Prompto leaned forward and bent to be able to look into Noctis’ eyes. The empty look he saw there was heartbreaking. He was just staring at his lap, his eyes almost lifeless - not in an incoherent way like before, but rather a heartbroken stare. 

“Are you okay?” Prompto asked anxiously and winced when he realized how obvious the answer was. When silence stretched on yet again, he began to ramble, “I mean, I know you aren’t okay. That was a dumb question, my bad. But, hey, you’re awake, right? That’s good news at least! I mean, uh, it’s definitely an improvement on, uh, before…” 

Something Prompto said made Noctis raise his head just a bit, not quite making eye contact, but something had clearly caught his interest. “Why do you say that?” he asked, sounding almost afraid to know the answer. 

“Um. Say what?”

“That I’m awake.”

Confused, he answered, “Because…you are? Awake, I mean?”

“No, why is being awake an improvement?” Noctis asked softly, still sounding like he already regretted asking. 

“Well, uh…you haven’t been for…a while.” 

“Huh?”

“It’s been ten days, dude,” Prompto answered with a wince, kicking himself for not thinking of a better way to deliver that information. “You remember what happened?” Noctis flinched, which he decided to take as an affirmative. “That was over a week ago. You’ve been asleep for a long time, bro. We’re super excited that you’re awake, it’s a huge relief, y’know?”

Noctis nodded mutely. His gaze had moved from his lap to his legs stretched out in front of him. He carefully reached a hand out toward one of his knees, but recoiled before he could actually make contact, clearly shaken. 

Just as Prompto was starting to wonder if every word he had said to Noctis was a total mistake, Ignis entered the room. His shoulders slumped out of his typically exceptional posture when he saw Noctis, and he rushed forward to his side.

“Noct,” he breathed out in relief. “It is so very good to see you awake.” Noctis flinched at the word ‘awake’, looking away from his two relieved friends. “Is something the matter?” he asked, only a slight bit of alarm creeping into his voice. “Is there something you require? Just name it and-” 

“-I’m fine,” Noctis cut him off sharply, still looking away from them. 

Ignis and Prompto shared an apprehensive look. It was only then that they were both realizing that they were utterly unprepared for this situation. Their emotions had been so intense and draining lately and neither had considered what would happen when Noctis awoke. They had been so lost in their own mess of feelings that kept yanking them from hope to despair to everything in between, they hadn’t stopped to really think about how Noctis would handle all these events. 

When tragedy strikes close to home, it can be hard to see other perspectives. While none of them had given up on hoping Noctis would come back to them, that hope seemed a little more distant each day, thus none of them had really thought about what would happen if their dreams became reality. 

Prompto was suddenly realizing that he’d been hoping so hard for Noctis to wake up that he’d basically forgotten about the rest of the obstacles Noctis would have to face if he did. Instead of thinking about it as one step at a time, he’d simply forgotten that there would be other steps at all. 

He’d forgotten that Noctis would still have to face recovery, and that he might never have the same capabilities he had before. Focused so singularly on getting through the day and hoping for the best, he’d forgotten that while watching Noctis show no signs of life besides a heartbeat had been difficult for all of them, Noctis’ difficulties were just beginning now that he was finally awake. In addition to physical recovery of the injuries he sustained, he would have to recover psychologically as well - something that would likely take just as much time, if not more.

Relief was slowly being taken over by more anxiety. Yes, Noctis was awake, and of course they were thrilled and would all be there for him. There was no end to the support he would receive. But seeing the despondent stare on Noctis’ face as he refused to even look at them was draining away the hope that had blossomed when Noctis finally opened his eyes. 

Prompto’s heart sank as he became conscious of the fact that the misery of waiting for Noctis to wake up may actually have been the easy part in all this. 

“We’re here for you, Noct,” Prompto said softly. “Always.”

The only sign that he’d even heard the words was the slight shake of Noctis’ shoulders as he silently began to cry. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! First, thanks for the kudos and comments and bookmarks and everything. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy ~
> 
> Second, here's the last chapter of this opening piece to my series. Thanks for coming along for the ride <3
> 
> Finally, I want to thank Denaia for being my sounding board and helping me work out parts of all this. You're the best. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Edit: Apologies, I forgot to mention there's very, very minor self harm here. It's just Noct striking himself, nothing graphic, but I wanted to mention it regardless.

Noctis spent most of his time pondering how he felt like he’d lost consciousness in one version of hell and woke up in another. 

One was filled with screams and blood and fire and crashed cars, ruled by a huge snake daemon. As he blacked out from blood loss, he was sure he wasn’t going to wake up again.

But he did. 

And the other version of hell was his current reality where he was unable to feel his legs, and his back spent every waking moment screaming in agony since they started weaning him off the good painkillers a few days back.

It just didn’t seem fair that the surgery had been enough of a success that he could feel the pain in his mangled spine but didn’t allow him the use of his legs. 

Ignis promised it would get better. 

Noctis wasn’t sure he believed him. 

He supposed he understood what Ignis was saying about how his body needed to heal and the pain would eventually fade, but whenever he glanced down at his lower half, any optimism regarding the pain didn’t really matter. 

Because really, what good would he ever be if he was stuck in a wheelchair for life? How would the rest of his life unfold? 

His training with Gladio would probably stop - and while he certainly often wished it would end while he was going through it, he was proud of the progress he’d made. After a failed assassination attempt on his father when Noctis was little, he had been living in fear until his training started. Once he realized the power he possessed and how capable he was of protecting himself and even others, many of his fears dissolved. Nothing helped anxiety about the future more than preparation, after all. But now all that was gone down the drain, leaving him feeling more helpless than ever.

He couldn’t help but wonder if Prompto would stick around. Deep down, he knew that particular fear was probably one of his most ridiculous, but the thought just wouldn’t leave him. Would Prompto really want to be there? Noctis knew that he hadn’t been especially friendly in the week and a half since he woke up. Prompto was like a permanent ray of sunshine, and lately he couldn’t help but feel like the physical embodiment of a rain cloud. Those two things didn’t typically go together. But no matter how much this worried him, he couldn’t find the energy to actually change how he was acting, or to care about the consequences. 

The constant assistance he now needed was possibly the worst part of all of it. A few years ago, when it had become clear that his father’s time for him was becoming more and more scarce, he had decided he wanted a taste of independence, so he moved into his own apartment. But now he needed help with every single task. Ignis refused to give him a straight answer as to whether Noctis would be able to return to his apartment, but he had a sinking feeling that his advisor’s evasiveness was answer enough. 

One thought he refused to consider was how he’d be able to rule as King from a wheelchair - how he would never have the same commanding presence a ruler required, that same power others could practically  _ feel  _ in the air around his father...

Determination to avoid that train of thought was how he discovered the small, bitter refuge that came with tuning out the world. While nightmares often followed him into sleep, sleeping was easier than living at this point. He didn’t have to worry about his future in his sleep, or deal with the way everyone hovered, or mourn what his life could have been. He knew he was utterly failing at interacting with people lately, so another plus was that he could just take a time out from being a person - and from seeing the look of dismay on his friends’ faces when he shut them out. 

Besides, he was always tired now anyway. It seemed like he could sleep nearly a full day and still crave more, so it was easy to pretend he wasn’t using it as an excuse to hide, even though he knew that was precisely what he was doing. But telling his friends he needed to sleep seemed to disturb them less than when he was forced to shut down under the crushing weight of his depression, so he also told himself it was just as much for their benefit as it was for his own. 

As much as everything seemed to be in ruins, there was also a feeling nagging at him, a feeling that there was something else very wrong. His doctors told him that a feeling of dread was common after such trauma, but this felt like something more. He could feel it in his bones that there was something lurking around the corner, just waiting to drag him down even further. No one would ever be able to convince him that the edge he was afraid of toppling over wasn’t extremely real and very imminent. 

More than anything, he now was certain hospitals were the worst thing to ever exist throughout history. As if he needed a constant reminder that his life had gone to shit. He was so sick of being checked on, having the wounds on his back tended to, frequent tests, sleeping in a bed with rails like a child, requiring assistance to relieve himself…

It was all too much to bear. There was nothing more he wanted in the world than to just run away from it all, but he very literally could not. Still, his instincts were screaming for him to get out in any way he could; he was willing to crawl away if it would actually get him out of this place. 

A few weeks ago, Noctis never would have thought he was the type to sit around and pity himself. But lately that was all he’d been doing when he was awake. Even when others were trying to interact with him, feeling sorry for himself was a constant in the back of his mind. Sometimes it got so overwhelming that he’d space out even when his friends were around, at times even while they were talking to him. 

Of course, he knew that they wanted to help and that they would be there for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Even though he could see that it was killing them when he shut them out and didn’t let them help, he still couldn’t engage. Any time that the guilt crept up on him, the self-pity and apathy would soon overtake it.

When everything felt this insurmountable, even thinking about doing something to change things was too exhausting. It was easier to withdraw and wallow. 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to get away with it…but he couldn’t imagine it was going to change any time soon.

\--

Everyday after school, Prompto would come to visit. It was almost starting to get on Noctis’ nerves, honestly. His friend’s undying cheer and optimism was draining to be around, and seeing the light fade in his eyes a bit every time he asked Noctis if he wanted to do something - to which the answer was invariably no - made him feel guilty. But then he’d perk back up and talk anyway as if everything was fine and Noctis hadn’t snubbed him, which was starting to get annoying; he kind of wished he’d take his cheerful ass elsewhere, despite knowing deep down that he didn’t want anything of the sort.

“You  _ suuuuure _ you don’t wanna play some King’s Knight?” Prompto asked, dangling Noctis’ phone, shaking it a little like he was trying to entice a little kid or a pet. Noctis had to struggle to keep from glaring at his friend - it seemed like they were treating him more like a child with every day that passed - but he maintained a blank, emotionless expression. “There’s this new event going on,” Prompto continued, voice practically dripping with glee attempting to drag him out of his shell. “Some of the rewards are seriously epic, don’t want ya to miss out, bud.”

Noctis didn’t especially want to play. He’d had a draining day of being attended to by doctors and holding back tears while pretending to sleep the rest of the time so no one else would bother him. 

“No thanks,” he murmured, finally looking Prompto in the eye. “Real tired,” he murmured, eyes dropping back to his lap. It was a complete lie. There were plenty of things he  _ was _ tired of, including people talking to him, being bedridden, and that distinct smell shared by all medical facilities, but he wasn’t actually physically tired. But Prompto didn’t need to know that. Misery may love company, but raining on the parade of this particular ray of sunshine would likely only make him feel even worse about himself than he already does. 

Prompto’s whole body seemed to sag at his response. Noctis barely kept himself from cringing at the sight, kicking himself for making his friend feel this way, despite his lie being the nicest option that came to his mind. 

What was  _ wrong _ with him lately? Noctis had never been actively social. Being royalty came with a lot of baggage, like needing to be wary of other people, among other things. But he’d had enough etiquette lessons to last multiple lifetimes, and he’d never had trouble with remaining polite, at least on an outward, superficial level. And he’d  _ definitely _ never had trouble speaking to his closest friends.

“Is there something else you want?” Prompto asked hesitantly. 

Walking again would be lovely. Sleeping without nightmares would be similarly delightful. Even just being back in his apartment would be a start, but his daily pestering of Ignis to get out of this damn hospital wing and go home had been entirely unsuccessful. But he doesn’t say any of that aloud. He knows there’s nothing anyone can do to turn back time and stop this whole event from happening in the first place, and he could see no improvement on the horizon.

So he just shrugs. 

Prompto looked around desperately, as if hoping something in the room would somehow magically resolve his friend’s terrible mood. After a minute, he turns his eyes to the floor and stares, face obviously working in thought. Eventually, he nodded to himself and finally looked back up at Noctis. 

“Hey, uh, here’s the thing…it’s almost like every teacher had a meeting and decided to give homework this weekend. It’s the…” he trailed off, probably realizing he was about to use the word  _ worst.  _ Immediately paling a bit and swallowing nervously, he was stuck trying to figure out something else to say. “It  _ totally _ sucks,” he finally settled on lamely.

Noctis isn’t sure why Prompto is telling him this. It was obvious he just needed out of this room as desperately as Noctis. He didn’t have to explain himself. It wasn’t like Noctis was being a very good friend at the moment. Deep down below all the sulking, he knew that very well, but he just didn’t have the strength to try harder. 

So he nodded, pretending that he buys what Prompto is selling. “Yeah, no problem, do what you gotta do, dude,” he said. He tried to say it with a soft smile on his face, as if trying to tell Prompto without words that he didn’t blame him one bit for wanting to bail on him, but he was pretty sure all he managed was a grimace. 

Still appearing hesitant to go, Prompto backed out of the room, stuttering excuses until he was finally out the door. 

Throwing his head back further into his pillow, Noctis groaned quietly to himself.  _ Why _ did he have to be like this? He knew his friends were trying so hard. Really, they were scrambling to take care of his every need. Since nothing feels like it would truly help his miserable situation, he hadn’t actually voiced any requests - other than to  _ please  _ let him go home - but they were all doing everything imaginable to bring him some sliver of happiness. 

But what they  _ weren’t  _ doing was even more significant. 

Ignis hadn’t even breathed a word about schoolwork yet, which was probably the most telling thing, because never in his life had his advisor allowed him to slack off regarding his education, not even for even a minute. Noctis knew he was probably waiting until things improved a bit - and then he’d refuse to let it go until Noctis was caught up - but he appreciated it nonetheless. 

Gladio wasn’t pressuring him to hurry up and get back on his feet - metaphorically, of course. He would’ve thought that his shield would be the first one urging him to stop moping and  _ do something _ about it, yet he hadn’t said one harsh word, not one unkind glance. Despite the fact that their training sessions still represented a huge unknown, he still wasn’t being pushy or gruff. Noctis wasn’t sure Gladio had ever been so understanding of, well, anything.

Prompto, his best friend, wasn’t losing his cool, no matter how withdrawn or dismissive Noctis was. He couldn’t imagine what was keeping Prompto from walking away in frustration, yet not once had he shown even a hint of wanting to be anywhere but by Noctis’ side. 

Until just now. 

As much time as Noctis spent feeling sorry for himself lately, he never felt this low. 

Certainly, he considered Ignis and Gladio his friends, but there was always this underlying dynamic of duty with the two of them. He didn’t mean to abuse the fact that they would never leave him, but perhaps he was doing it without meaning to…

But Prompto was his  _ best friend,  _ and he had absolutely no obligation to stick around. It was one of the things he liked best about their relationship; it was real, devoid of titles, just two dorks who love the same games and movies and enjoy each other’s company. But Noctis wasn’t really holding up his end of that, was he? He couldn’t honestly say that he was enjoying Prompto’s company, and he had no doubts his perpetually joyful friend wasn’t enjoying spending time with what was only a depressed husk of who Noctis used to be. Even someone so ceaselessly happy could only put up with so much. 

He’d really screwed everything up, hadn’t he? He would’ve expected to feel sad, but he mostly felt nothing. But soon, that nothing turned into intense anger with himself.

With a quiet cry of rage - he didn’t want anyone to hear him and come running - he slammed his fist into his leg. Of course, he couldn’t feel it, and that just made him angrier. He struck his leg with all the strength he could muster several more times, finally letting the tears come. 

Burying his face in his hands, he let the tears continue to flow, occasionally removing one of his hands to move to grasp at his thigh. He squeezed it as tight as he could, silently, desperately begging the universe to let him feel something there. If only he could manage only the tiniest feeling below the waist - all he needed was a tingle, for astrals’ sakes - maybe this nightmare would end. 

But it was a distant dream at this point. 

Maybe that’s what keeping his friendship with Prompto was now, too. 

After what felt like an eternity later, the tears slowed, then stopped. It seemed he could finally honestly say that he was tired. Sighing, he took hold of the rails on the bed that he hated so much, using them to turn onto his side, facing away from the door. Hopefully anyone who entered his room would take the hint. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Finally crying it out had gotten him good and tired. At least now he wasn’t totally lying earlier, for what little that was worth. 

Oh, who was he kidding, there was no fixing how he treated Prompto, who had never been anything but good to him.

Regardless, he wanted to follow through on what he said earlier and actually sleep. 

At first, sleep remained elusive, but soon he was drifting. That feeling was one of his favorites lately. Not awake, so most people left him alone; not asleep, so he was free of nightmares. Just weightlessly floating in a painless limbo. It didn’t sound great but it was actually pretty nice.

In that distant state, he vaguely heard familiar voices, one of them belonging to Prompto. He must really be drifting off; there was no way Prompto would come back to such an awful friend. 

But he was yanked back when the voice became clearer instead of falling away as he fell asleep. 

“Oh, um, I guess he’s sleeping,” he heard Prompto say to someone. “Should we leave him alone?” 

“No,” Noctis murmured sleepily. If this was real, he didn’t want to turn Prompto away this time. “‘m awake.” 

He flopped back onto his back, immediately regretting the careless movement when it set his back on fire. Ignis rushed forward when Noctis let out a whimper, helping situate him more comfortably. 

“Noct, the doctors have warned you about moving into different positions without help,” Ignis chided gently. “You need to be more careful.”

“I know, I know,” he gasped in response. He knew all too well, but he’d be damned if he was going to call for help every single time he felt like shifting. Ignis must have known exactly what he was thinking, as he gave him an extremely muted version of his patented exasperated  _ you need to cut that out  _ glare. 

“You up for a field trip, bro?” Prompto asked. That was when Noctis noticed Prompto was pushing an empty wheelchair toward the bed. 

Noctis couldn’t hold in his groan. “More x-rays?” 

“No,” Ignis said, clearly fighting a smile for some reason. 

“More tests?” Noctis asked suspiciously. 

“No,” Ignis said again. 

“What then?”

Prompto spoke up, “We thought you might like a change of scenery!” 

“Huh?” 

“How does a trip to the gardens sound?” Ignis said, finally allowing himself to smile a little. The smile grew much larger when he saw the way Noctis’ eyes brightened a bit. 

The transfer into the wheelchair was far from easy, which dampened Noctis’ mood somewhat, but his friends refused to let it affect their plans. 

Sadly, Noctis’ mood was further lowered with every person they passed in the halls. Some were perfectly respectful, but he could see the way some people’s eyes widened at seeing him, and the fact he was still in a hospital gown made him feel extremely vulnerable. Despite his royal training to always sit straight and look people in the eye, he couldn’t help but slouch into the chair and stare at his hands in his lap. 

But once they arrived at Noctis’ favorite garden - the citadel had several sets of lush gardens, but this particular one was by far his favorite due to the large koi pond - he brightened once again, forgetting all the awkward stares. 

Prompto positioned the wheelchair next to his favorite spot next to the pond. He really wished they would let him leave the chair to sit closer, but he knew better than to ask. Besides, just being out of the hospital wing felt like his first breath of fresh air in years. 

He could still feel Prompto’s and Ignis’ eyes on him, though. The feeling was unsettling. He knew that was probably silly, especially considering that he was constantly being watched lately, and he shouldn’t be so put off by his own friends. 

A sudden thought hit him like a speeding truck: what if they had something bad to tell him? If he was in their shoes and had to break bad news to himself, the first step would be to take him to a place he loved, somewhere he felt comfortable. The idea made his stomach clench, and he felt his whole body stiffen - which did nothing to help with the pain he was already in. 

The feeling was unshakeable. He’d been feeling a terrible sense of dread ever since Prompto told him how long he’d been unconscious and he couldn’t help but think that this right here was going to justify how he’d been feeling all along.

“So, how does it feel?” Prompto asked him with an uncertain, but hopeful, smile. 

“How does what feel?” Noctis asked hesitantly. He felt awful, and terribly anxious. Any positive feelings he had about being out of his hospital room had vanished. 

“The sun. We thought you might like being outside again…” Prompto told him, trailing off when Noctis didn’t rush to agree. 

Ignis spoke up to fill the gap of silence, “Indeed, we thought a bit of warm sunlight might prove beneficial to your recovery. I can’t believe we didn’t think to do so sooner, considering how cooped up you’ve been as of late.”

It was only then that Noctis realized his room didn’t have a window, and this was his first time even seeing outdoors in weeks. Maybe he really had missed it more than he realized. 

Noctis relaxed just slightly. Maybe they did just bring him here to cheer him up. That thought was much more pleasant than his previous suspicions. That lingering foreboding feeling was still there, but he wasn’t as certain any longer. 

Prompto must have noticed, because he jumped back in happily, “Yeah, Ignis said this was your favorite place in the citadel! Thought it might be nice.”

He sighed contentedly. It seemed Ignis always knew what he needed before he even knew for himself. “Thank you,” he whispered. 

“You’re quite welcome, Highness,” Ignis replied softly, gently grasping his shoulder. 

“Iggy said something about you liking fish?” Prompto asked curiously. 

“I do,” he confirmed, feeling his heart swell slightly at how well his oldest friend truly knew him. “I love watching them move. Really…graceful, I guess? Mesmerizing.” 

Prompto nodded eagerly. “Cool. Hey, have you ever tried fishing?”

Noctis tilted his head in thought. He’d never considered it. Usually he was involved in more active hobbies, or completely sedentary ones when his body needed a break, like video games. But fishing was something he could do outdoors without being mobile, wasn’t it? Maybe he could try it, once they let him leave the citadel. He had always loved battered fish and chips…

Obviously, he still wished he could walk. That would be much better. He would have to find new ways to cope with his changed circumstances. It wouldn’t be easy, but with the warmth of the sun on his skin and the sight of all the beautiful things that still existed even after his hellish experience, it helped him feel like maybe there was a way forward. The pain in his back and his heart felt like it was clearing, at least a little. 

It was obvious he’d never be able to deal with it all on his own. 

But with his friends there with him? Maybe they could find a way to make this work. Together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Noct's emotions were kind of all over the place here. I really wanted to end on a more hopeful note, but there is still a ton more depressed!Noct to come. My reasoning is that pain makes people overly emotional (that's my experience at least and boy do I have a lot of it) which explains the ups and downs even though he's supposed to be pretty exclusively miserable. I wasn't sure of it at first (and I guess I'm still not since I'm making this note) so if anyone has any comments on how I handled that, I'd be glad to hear them. This was the first time I've ever been really unsure of my characterization so I'm curious if anyone has feedback. 
> 
> Thanks everyone for reading, and I already have several ideas for my next stories in the series :) Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! If you're so inclined, I would love any sort of comments you're willing to give, they really help me keep going and mean so much to me! :)
> 
> If you're interested in chatting about fanfic or FFXV in general, I'm really happy to chat on tumblr. My name there is the same as it is here, zoewiloh.


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